Fold
by Penn O'Hara
Summary: Another post War at Home story. Yes, I know, there's heaps out there already, but I only just got to see the episode two days ago! Goren.
1. Chapter 1

**"Fold"**

**Copyright 2007 Penn O'Hara**

_**T**_

_**Usual disclaimers apply.**_

_**Timeline: Post "War at Home" … I've now finally seen it! Thanks to blucougar!!!**_

_**Dedication: This one is for bammi1 at her request. She's desperate. Her word, not mine. I hope you can handle an alter-ego of yourself, though. Be warned.**_

_**A/N: I'll be upfront here and admit that this is a reworked plot I developed for another fandom. So, if you think it's a cheat, then stop here and close the page. If you think it's okay for authors to reuse their own ideas, revise them and improve upon them, then keep reading. In fact, after I finished this, I didn't recognize the original story anyway. **_

_**After finally seeing "War at Home", I wondered where, as we all did, Bobby went after he walked out of the squad room that final time. I can't imagine his getting drunk and he was too uptight to go see his mother – as his mother, she would have picked up on his tension which would have been detrimental to her peace of mind. He wouldn't have allowed that. He could have walked it off and he probably did, but that's not nearly as much fun, is it:-D**_

_**This is still my LOCI universe where Goren and Eames were forced to be intimate by Nicole Wallace, their developing relationship nipped in the bud by Eames' bad recovery after "Blind Spot".**_

**oOo**

**Chapter One**

**The bar was noisy, the good-natured ribaldry and laughter mocking Goren's torment. Situated off the foyer of the Embassy Suites Hotel, it was usually quiet and circumspect, mostly patronized by hotel guests. But in this instance, Goren realized he'd made a bad choice. Today it was crowded with a private party, the _Bon Voyage_ balloons hanging from the necks of champagne bottles indicating that it was someone's good fortune to be going on holidays.**

**Goren rounded his shoulders against their camaraderie, envying their untroubled dedication to having a good time. Blocking out all, he concentrated on unraveling his anguish, clearing his psyche of the distress inflicted upon him by this last case, its bad timing and his colleagues' inability to give him the latitude he needed.**

**Cool, light fingers touched the hand wrapped around the half-empty glass of Goren's first and now lukewarm drink. **

**"You look unhappy. Why don't you join us?" **

**The voice was low and feminine, soft but insistent, confident without being brazen.**

**Instinct told Goren she was the guest of honor of the going away party. Despite his turmoil, the detective in him was still on duty. He'd noticed her when he came in, as she unwrapped a gift and tied the balloons to one of the wine bottles. Casually dressed in a loose top and well-pressed trousers, it wasn't her clothes that made her stand out and be noticed. It was her self-assurance, her total command of the table at which she sat. Hanging on her every word, the others were moths to a flame, and Goren had fleetingly wondered what it would be like for her to burn for him.**

**He kept his head down and ignored her.**

**"I'm not going away," she said.**

**Still refusing to look at her, he waved her off, but his hand was caught and held, those cool fingers belonging to a warm palm and strong grip.**

**He looked up, dismayed she was pushing the issue, and saw soft dark curls framing a pale face with a smiling pink mouth, petite nose, and concerned hazel eyes arched by natural brows. Her head would barely top his shoulders, and even up close, she had that presence he'd observed earlier, a confidence that wasn't alcohol-fueled, but came from within. **

**"I'd rather–" **

**He took back his hand and curled it around his glass, gripping it with desperation. He'd been picked up in bars before and sometimes he'd accepted and most times he'd been flattered, but tonight, he was too tied in knots to contemplate anything but his confused misery. He wanted her to leave him alone but knew her confidence would be challenged by any rebuff from him. He raised his chin and blanked his thoughts, not projecting interest nor disinterest, but discouraging her with a total of nothing.**

**She threw back her head and laughed, a joyous, uninhibited sound, then sat on the stool beside him, balanced an elbow on the counter and propped her chin on her hand. **

**"I recognize your game," she said. I've seen them all. Even tried a few myself. But, it's your lucky night, lover."**

**"No game," he mumbled, startled.**

**"And this is where I come back with the cliché of 'It's all a game'. I'd rather just get past the rhetoric and come to the point."**

**He sighed, not in the mood for verbal sparring. "You could. But…but your party will miss you."**

**"We've been at it for a while. I don't think they'll mind too much." **

**She leaned into him, deliberately pressing her breast against his shoulder. Goren felt its warmth and softness and realized with a shock that it had been a long time since he'd experienced those sensations. Coming on top of today's frustration and internal trauma, it went through him like expensive brandy through rich coffee.**

**"But no one's going to miss _you_, are they?"**

**Licks of anger curled in his gut, banishing his brief mellowing. **

**"You think I'm drowning my sorrows?" he demanded, pulling back. "I'm the rejected end of a love gone wrong? Your profiling skills are–"**

**"My God! I've got a cop!" she crowed. "I don't know whether to be worried or piqued. I think I'll go for piqued." She tipped her head and examined him through narrowed eyes. "And not one merely out of uniform, I'll warrant. That'll make you a detective. I'm _definitely_ piqued."**

**Goren straightened from the bar, finished with the conversation, but she wrapped a hand around his upper arm.**

**"Stay." **

**She didn't have to say anything more. Her eyes shimmered with a rapid fire of messages. Quick reassessment, interest and lingering promise. Goren wasn't surprised there was no apology. Her hand burned through his jacket, her grip tolerating no refusal. Her impudence ignited his blood, his nerves poised to either rebuff her or subjugate her. **

**"You don't–" he began.**

**"I don't have to get to know you. Do you?"**

**Could she really see his ambivalence? Attracted to her but repulsed by her belief he would succumb. Needing a diversion but ashamed of his inability to overcome it with his own inner strength.**

**But then wasn't she the only one today who hadn't yet abandoned him? If she could give him that, then he could return to Carmel Ridge and his mother, his psyche stripped, aired and cleansed.**

**Who was he kidding?**

**"Yes. I do."**

**"Now, that disappoints me. Have you let down everyone who got within your radius today?"**

**Goren's lungs filled from righteous anger. "You know nothing of–!"**

**"That's not important, is it?" she asked, her eyes sparking. Stretching out a hand, she ran her fingers down the side of his face and their gentleness was at odds with the determination on her face. "I'm staying in town tonight. I've got a room. At this hotel."**

**Again, Goren felt torn between acceptance and revolt.**

**"I'll be with you," she said, her voice liquid chocolate, smoothing his ire. "For you. As long or as short as you want. No strings."**

**The scales tipped. **

**Alex, who had once professed to want him, was now immune to his overtures to bring their relationship back to the intimate and today she had rebuffed him when he was hurting most. This woman, a stranger, promised no judgment, no complication. Goren knew how it felt to be rejected without explanation and he realized he himself was doing it to another.**

**His head jerked with wounded pride, acceding to her and damning his conscience to agonize tomorrow.**

**"Let's go," he said.**

**oOo**

_**TBC…**_

_**Chapter Two will be in the 'M' section.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**"Fold"**

**Copyright 2007 Penn O'Hara**

_**M**_

_**Usual disclaimers apply.**_

_**A/N: E.H. Wimp out? Me? Never! Bammi1. You're most welcome. **_

_**No one was able to help me with a name of a good hotel near OnePP, so I had to go with a guide book which said the Empire Suites Hotel was near the Hudson River. And I had this idea OnePP was near the Brooklyn Bridge so I added two and two and hope I came up with four. ::grin:: Someone can let me know if I'm wrong. I've never been to New York.**_

_**Be warned. We haven't seen this side of Goren, so I've allowed myself some latitude and you may not like what you see.**_

**Chapter Two**

**Heat. Steaming. Body heat. Hers and his. **

**Pulsing, rising and sinking. **

**Touching, caressing and retreating. **

**Goren's body was on fire, his sweat mingled with hers, their naked bodies joined in, for him, a dance of desperation. **

**As soon as he stepped into the hotel room after her, she jumped him, tearing at his clothes. His jacket was tugged from his shoulders but his tie defeated her. Pulling at it, she almost throttled him until he pushed her hands away and handled it himself. **

**Frozen for a heartbeat, Goren questioned his being there. It felt wrong, but the whole day had been a slipped gear for him. **

**Her impatience at a peak, she ripped his shirt from him. Climbing up his frame, she fastened her lips on his, rousing him. Goren grunted, unlocked the cage and released the beast. He returned the feeding kisses, swallowing her fast and noisy pants. **

**He had the feeling that foreplay was going to be unnecessary. **

**The woman quickly discarded her trousers, then his, and mounted him. On autopilot, Goren rose to the challenge and stepped back to lean against the wall, holding her rounded ass in his hands. He took her weight and guided her, while she rode him, attuned to his rhythm. **

**The cerebral part of him was appalled at his lack of control, shrinking in dismay. The often repressed basal side of him gloried in its release and fueled him with the vigor he needed to satisfy her. She came quickly and noisily, throwing her head back and shouting her pleasure and Goren's confidence soared at her uninhibited enjoyment. His heart pummeled his chest to give her the potency she craved.**

**The woman may not have believed in foreplay, but she sure as hell went in for after-play. **

**After taking her pleasure from him against the wall, she shed the last of her clothes and coaxed him to one of the padded chairs in the room, pushing him to its seat and sinking onto his lap. Goren ground his teeth as she enveloped him, squeezing and wriggling, little whimpers of pleasure puffing through her lips. Digging her fingers into his bare shoulders, her thighs pumped against his. **

**Eyes shut tight against the reality of it, the mental image of what he was doing crowded in on Goren. He welcomed her use of him. It channeled his self-disgust into an anger directed at her, his mental punishment transferred into bruising thrusts on which she seemed to thrive. A keening cry heralded her second orgasm and she collapsed against his chest.**

**Suddenly guilt-ridden for his lack of finesse, Goren gently took her face in both hands, but she tossed her head and crawled from his lap. Drawing him away from the chair, she turned her back to him and placed her hands on the flat of the seat, provocatively rolling her hips. She swung her head to saucily grin at him.**

**Repulsed, his body belied him. He slowly approached, his fascination aberrant and addictive. **

**Despite knowing it would also be soul-destroying, he reached out for her.**

**Smoothing his palms over her back, Goren reveled in the velvet heat of her skin. He explored round her waist and up her ribs to cup her breasts in his hands. They seemed to throb in his palms, swell and fill his fists to overflowing. Exploring their heavy softness, he rolled the nipples into aroused hardness before splaying his hands down her stomach and between her inner thighs. She rubbed herself against him, urgent words of encouragement a staccato in her gasps. He gripped and hitched her from her feet. **

**And his mind closed down in horror as his body took over.**

**She squealed and laughed, but when he positioned her against his thighs and plunged, the laughter gurgled into a moan that seemed ripped from her throat. Her body opened to him and took his thrusts with abandon.**

**Goren pummeled into her until he gave up his pleasure with a bellow, the tension exploding from his body, taking with it, some of his frustration and the day's betrayal. Pulling her off the chair, he held her back against his chest and breathed the last vestiges of aggravation into the hollow of her neck.**

**"I don't know– This isn't–" He couldn't find the words to tell her that Robert Goren didn't behave like this, but it was important to him that she know. "I don't–"**

**He gave up.**

**Her head lolled against his shoulder, before she slowly rolled it from side to side. Sighing deeply, she reluctantly pulled herself upright and turned into him.**

**"I'm not quite finished," she breathed, her eyes heavy and barely open. "Are you?"**

**Pulling him over to the large bed dominating the room, she pushed him onto his back and coaxed his body into throbbing life again. With the last remnants of reason left to him, he tried to resist her but her hands and mouth were too practiced, too insistent. **

**Needing to regain control, he grabbed her chin and forced her head up, then rolled over, taking her with him. She went limp beneath him, closing her eyes and opening her mouth in a quiet sigh.**

**"Do it!" she breathed, her chest heaving. "Be gentle this time. Take me as you would a lady."**

**"You're not–" **

**"I know," she said sadly, "but I can be treated like one, can't I?"**

**"I didn't mean– You are, but–"**

**Turning away, he hung his head, hiding his antipathy. She wouldn't understand it was directed at himself. **

**"You may have let down the ones that know you," she whispered, "but you haven't disappointed me."**

**He gasped, her intuitiveness cutting at him.**

**Inching his head back to her, he sought her eyes. The appeal there was a mirror of his own anguish. She also had demons to fight.**

**"It wouldn't mean–"**

**"I know." Her mouth trembled. "I understand."**

**She wanted tenderness. Could he give it when it meant nothing to him? An image of Alex naked and pliant beneath him slipped between them, but he banished it. That was denied him now.**

**"I–"**

**"Please," she urged. "We've had sex. Make love to me now."**

**Her hands slid up and over his shoulders poised above her and they shuddered. Exerting pressure, she pulled him toward her, still resisting. She reached up to lay butterfly kisses on his lips, fanning a melt-down of the mental barrier he erected.**

**Moving sinuously beneath him, she showed him what she wanted. Goren held back, but his body quickened in protest. Her kisses became deeper, her tongue darting in and out of his mouth, mimicking what he had to do.**

**A groan of self-contempt was his last defense, but no one heard it. He slid into her slowly, answering her need and seeking to rid his body of the toxins of frustration. **

**The room become a sauna of mingled heat and sweat, their joining one of mutual demon-slaying and Goren accepted the part of him that was powerless.**

**She writhed beneath him, her head tossing from side to side. Cries of bliss tripped off her tongue. Her fingers tore at his back and her teeth sunk into his shoulder as she shouted her satisfaction. Goren let his own release tumble from him as he stroked into her until she gasped one last time and turned her head on the pillow, eyes closed. **

**He feathered his fingers down the side of her face, apologizing for his inability to feel a closeness to her that might endure. It didn't seemed important to her, but it tore at his sense of worth as a man.**

**She lay still as if sleeping, or worse, ignoring his mute regret.**

**Dragging himself from her, Goren went in search of his clothes, his earlier tension gone, but replaced by an irrevocable heaviness of heart.**

**In the bathroom, he stared at his reflection. He leaned heavily on the basin, supporting a weight that was more mental than physical. His eyes were half-closed, refusing to look into his damaged soul. Angry red marks on his neck extended into full-blown scratches from his shoulders around to his back and a set of teeth-marks branded one shoulder. Smoothing his hands through his short curls, his hair bounced back into a semblance of order. Clothes would cover most of the evidence of his weakness, but he couldn't erase the self-derision from the down-turn of his mouth.**

**Pushing away from the basin, he sorted through his clothes. The shirt was torn beyond repair, his trousers clasp damaged but still operational, and one of his jacket buttons was missing. Tossing the shirt to the bathroom floor, he donned the trousers and fastened the jacket as best he could, then, with leaden feet, left the hotel room.**

**The woman on the bed didn't move.**

**oOo**

**Heading his car toward home, Goren intended to trash his clothes, shower and set out for Carmel Ridge in the hope that his mother would understand he hadn't deserted her.**

**He parked in the street, then loped into the building, praying he wouldn't be seen in a damaged coat with bare chest. Taking the flight of steps to his floor two at a time, he rounded the banister, and was brought up short by the sight of Alex Eames sitting on the floor, her back propped against his front door.**

**She looked up, her eyes narrowing as she took in his dishabille. Goren watched the slide-show of shock, concern and realization shutter across her face. Disgust was the last thing he saw before she pulled in her lips and pushed herself to her feet.**

**Holding out a cell phone, she walked toward him. **

**"You left this on your desk," she said, her jaw grinding over the words.**

**Her gaze raked his body but she didn't break stride as she handed over his phone and passed him on the landing.**

**"I'm not even going to ask," she said, then walked down the stairs, the heels of her boots angrily clicking against the well-trod wood.**

**The woman had been wrong when she assured Goren, no strings attached. **

**They were attached and unraveling fast.**

**oOo**

_TBC… if TPTB at LOCI give us some more meaty episodies to watch._

_**Boohoo is right, though. I've confusing everyone with my jumping timelines and couples, but you know, I'm not confused myself. I feel I've got a handle on everyone and I'm enjoying the changes of pace and variety of personalities. I won't finish "Cowboys" quickly, 'cos it's too big a project, so perhaps I should publish it only when it's finished. Does that work for everyone?**_


End file.
